
Cfass 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 






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WONDERLAND 



THE STORY OF 



^luifut and Podern feiu Pe\ifO, 



A LECTURE^Y 

ALBERT R. GREENE, 

(joe Fluffer,) 
Of the Kansas City Journal. 



OF 



^^'^'' COP YRiGHr. ^'^<p ^ 

^^^AR 77 1884 '^i 



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(SH< 



DELIVERED BEFORE >ifc " l~ 

The Kansas Editorial Associatio> 

IN THE 

MONTEZUMA HOTEL, LAS VEQAS, N. M. 

MAY 12, 1883. 



f/-i 



COPYRIGHT 
\LBERT B. GREE 

1883. 



COPYRIGHT 

Bv Albert B. Greene 
1883. 



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WONDERLAND. 



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^N the year 1848, the United States ac- 
" quired by conquest and purchase, a vast 
territory lying along our western and 
southwestern border, a portion ol" which 
was called New Mexico, and extended from 
the one hundred and third meridian of west 
longitude to the Colorado River, and trom 
thirty-one degrees and twenty minutes to thir- 
ty-seven degrees of north latitude ; comprising 
one hundred and fifty million acres of land ; 
an area nearly three times as large as the State 
of Kansas, four times greater than Missouri, or 
five times greater than the State of Illinois. 

It is supposed to be rich in mineral and 
pastoral resources, but its remoteness from 
civilization and the perils involved in reaching 
it, termed for years an effectual barrier to its 
exploration. It was a sealed book to the stu- 
dent, and a terra incognita to the immigrant, 



4 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

except the adventurous few who could brave 
the hardships of overland travel across treeless 
wastes tor hundreds of miles to gratitV their 
greed or curiositv. The traveler knew of the 
countrv through the narrow channels of com- 
merce by which its few inhabitants disposed of 
their surplus products and supplied their mea- 
gre wants ; the trapper knew of it b\' the 
game and peltries its plains and mountains fur- 
nished him in his dreary life of voluntary exile; 
and the soldier knew of it as the hiding place 
and citadel of his life-long enemy, the Apache. 
These comprise the Anglo-Saxon residents of 
the country, if residents they could be called, 
and through their strange and ol'ttimes conflict- 
ing stories, was obtained about all that was 
known of that undeflned, mysterious region 
that existed in the minds of the ''states people" 
more as a dream than as a fact. 

'J'his of its material resources. It has been 
better known as a land abounding in historic 
events, dating back for centuries of an exist- 
ence as a dependency of Spain, and covered 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. S 

with a glamour of romance tinted with con- 
quest and blood. These invested it with an 
interest always, that is deepened and strength- 
ened upon research into an irresistible fasci- 
nation, now that the country is accessible by 
palace cars and the adjuncts of civilization. 

All this came as a revelation to the public 
in the beginning of the present decade, just 
in time to enjoy it in the universal prosperity 
that now blesses the land — just in time to see 
the fadng relicis of royalty that founded heie 
a civilization older than that of Ph'mouth Rock 
or Jamestown. 

In 1863, congress diminished the area of 
New Mexico, by erecting the Territory of 
Arizona out of all that part lying west of the 
one hundred and ninth meridian, leaving it 
nearly an equilateral quadrangle of three hun- 
dred and forty miles in each of the cardinal 
directions. By this dixision Arizona was oiv- 
en an area of seventy-two million acres of 
land, and New Mexico retained seventv-seven 



6 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

million acres, being fifth in rank of area of the 
states and territories. 

The conspicuous topographical features of 
New Mexico are the Sierra Blanca and Sierra 
Madre ranges of mountains, and the valleys ol 
the Rio Pecos and the Rio Grande, extending 
in a general direction from north to south, in 
nearly parallel lines, equi-distant, and dividing 
the territorv into hve great natural divisions. 
First, the plains bordering the Indian Terri- 
orv and Texas; then the long, narrow, rock- 
girt vallev of the Rio Pecos; then the Sierra 
Blanca, being a continuation of the Sangre de 
Cristo range, of Colorado, and terminating in 
the Guadalupe range at the far south ; west 
of this, opens out to the enraptured vision of 
the traveler that Canaan of his hopes, the val- 
ley of the Rio (jrande del Norte; beyond this. 
the storm-s\vept peaks of the Sierra Madre, 
the Continental Dixide, from whose summits 
the snows, melting. How into the Atlantic and 
Pacific oceans : and, beyond this, the plains 



ANCIE>^T AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 7 

that border Arizona. Such is New Mexico 
as the birds see it. 

But I anticipate. First let us glance at the 
precarious thread that bound it with feeble 
hold to the states. 

No feature of modern New Mexico is more 
interesting, or more closely allied with its de- 
velopment, than ^hat tawny strip of earth that 
stretches away from the Missouri river to 
' ita Fe, and thence to El Paso. Just how 
much of this route was traversed bv Alva 
Nunez Cabeza de Vaca in his journey from 
Florida, bv the wav of New Mexico, to the 
home of iNIontezuma, is uncertain. That he 
counted manv of its wearv leagues, is proba- 
ble, and sighed for the orange-scented air and 
Elysian loveliness of the fair Ocklawaha, as 
he trod the burning sands of the Cimarron : 
and that Coronado crossed and recrossed its 
track that was to be, is certain. But of Pike, 
^vh() ma\' be ("onsidered its pioneer, and \\'ho 
followed the trail to a prison: of Kearney, 
who carried the Stars nnd Stripes oAcr plain 



8 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

and mountain and planted it above the palace; 
of Aubrey, who rode the whole eight hundred 
miles in six days ; of Kit Carson, and Colonel 
Doniphan, and Old Bill Bent, and the army 
of men who succeeded them, it may be said 
they dedicated one of the grandest thorough- 
fares on the globe. 

What memories rush up at the mention of 
these names ! Where is the man in all our 
earl}^ history who loved his country more or 
served it better than that daring explorer who 
unlocked the wilderness, that faithful chroni- 
cler whose narrative is more enchanting than 
song- or story, that oallant soldier whose noble 
soul was liberated in battle on our northern 
frontier, Zebulon Montgomery Pike ? Well 
may the states perpetuate his name; well may 
the lofty peak that bears it shine as his monu- 
ment fore\er. 

Will the Mexicans ever forget Kearney ? 
Will the Indians ever forget Kearney ? Will 
Americans ever forget Kearney ? 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. C) 

One day, lono- years ago, a party of adven- 
turous spirits were celebrating their escapes 
from the perils of the plains, on the Plaza in 
Santa Fe, and one, more daring than the rest, 
made a wager of a thousand dollars that he 
could ride to Independence in six days. Re- 
lays of horses were stationed at the ranches 
that dotted the trail at lono- intervals, word 
was sent to the ranchmen to be ready, and, 
fully equipped, the wild horseman mounted 
and shot out of the Ancient City amid the hur- 
rahs of thousands and the booming of artillery. 

Through the pine-scented canons he sped ; 
over the bald hills he came, and anon was hid- 
den to view, rising and falling in the graceful 
metre of the galloping steed ; with a heart as 
light as a bird's song, and a spirit that never 
knew fear, the dauntless Aubrey rode away. 
The startled deer bounded from his trail, and 
the savage crouched in mortal terror as the 
phantom horseman flashed by. The flagging 
horse was urged again and again by cruel 
thrusts of the bloody rowel, and when the 



lO WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

change was made the staggerino- beast was 
turned loose to Hve or die, as the fates de- 
creed. Halting at first for a few hours' rest, 
Aubrey soon found the tension of his nerves 
too great for sleep, and he decided to push 
on, trusting to stimulants and the cat-naps he 
could catch in the saddle. 

And so he rode, through hostile camps, past 
caravans of immigrants, who saw his s^vaving 
figure grow on the dim trail, come nearer and 
nearer with frightful rapidity, until the man 
and horse, covered with dust and tbam, dash- 
ed past without halt or recognition, and faded 
away on the eastern horizon. And so he rode 
over hill and plain, through the first faint flush- 
es of the dawn, through daylight and through 
darkness, through sunshine and through 
storm; and so fainting man and d\ing horses 
strained the last nerve and spurned the wearv 
miles av\^av, until the dark outlines ot the Mis- 
souri timber greeted his swollen e\es, grew 
plainer and plainer, the busv streets of the 
frontier village aj:)peared. and Aubrey, nearer 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. I I 

dead than alive, tell from his horse into the 
arms of his friends, five days and sixteen hours 
from Santa Fe, and the wager was won! 

It was a grand feat, and will live imperish- 
able in the annals of the frontier. One of the 
finest steamers on the Missouri was named 
in honor of him, and a locomotive that to-da}'' 
follows the shining trail to Santa Fe bears the 
name of F. X. Aubrey. 

But no such purpose animated him as thrill- 
ed the heart of Paul Revere that night when 
the Revolution was born, or inspired Phil. 
Sheridan who saved the day at Winchester; 
and as a sad se(]uel his life-blood was shed in 
a drunken brawl in the streets of Santa Fe. 

In an obscure corner of the cemetery at 
Taos mav be seen a modest monument that 
marks the last resting place of that heroic little 
man who led the Pathfinder, and who helped 
to save New Mexico to the Union, Colonel 
Christopher Carson. 

If vou look out of the car window as you 
cross the Las Animas, in Colorado, vou will 



12 WONDERJ.AND ; THE STORY OF 

see a grave b}^ the roadside, under an old Cot- 
tonwood tree. It is the grave ot" that early 
plainsman, tViend of the traveler, foe of the 
savage, who was good on a story when the 
camp tire was kindled and the bottle went 
round, jolly - Old Bill Bent." 

Colonel Doniphan, who learned the story ol 
New Mexico bv heart, who penetrated Chi- 
huahua and captured its capital, and who re- 
turned covered with the honors of war, to be 
crowned with a wreath of laurel by the ladies 
of Independence — Colonel Doniphan yet lives, 
a venerable gentleman, widely known, and 
known onlv to be loved. 

These were the pioneers of the Santa Fe 
trail. Millions of wealth have passed over it, 
and its course is marked with battle fields and 
strewn with graves. 

Not only the slow-plodding ox trains that 
consumed a summer in making the trip, nor 
the occasional detachments of troops to some 
distant post passed that way, but the old-time 
mail stage, with its six-mule team and outrider 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. I'3 

its many-mannered Jehu, and its squad of dra- 
goons jogging in the rear as protection against 
the hirking toe that hung, like the shadow ot 
death, on the trail. This t'ormed a picturesque 
feature of its history. Think of that trip a mo-- 
mjent. Think of the passengers, six — nine — 
twelve in number, men and women, ciowded 
inside and on top of that portable prison, with 
mail sacks and firearms for furniture. Think 
of the days of gazing on shoreless plains, and 
nights of sleeplessness and apprehension, as 
they jogged on through heat like the tropics,, 
sand storms like Sahara, or snow storms that 
would discount a Dakota blizzard ! It was 
more of an undertaking than to cross the At- 
lantic ; and a steerage passage in an emigrant 
ship was a rainbow-tinted pleasure excursion 
compared with it. No wonder men made 
their wills before starting. No wonder the 
safe arrival of the Santa Fe coach was made 
an occasion for bonfires and rejoicing. 

Old plainsmen will recognize the principal 
"•home stations" — iio Creek, Council Grove, 



14 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

Cottonwood, Little Arkansas, Walnut, Paw- 
nee Fork, Cimarron, Bent's Fort, Huerfano, 
Trinidad, Dick Wooton's, Maxwell's, Las Ve- 
gas, San Jose, Pajarito, Glorietta, and then a 
Concord coach and six splendid horses under 
yell and whip of driver, for the home run to 
Santa Fe. 

No ordinary curiosity leads the tourist to 
scan it as the iron trail on which he now goes 
crosses and recrosses its course. He looks 
with a feeling akin to awe at the great scar 
upon the face of nature, whose very wrinkles 
are instinct with historv. And throughout 
that long ride — abbreviated though it is b\- 
steam, yet long nevertheless — he cannot es- 
cape from it. It is like the omnipresent glis- 
tening crown ot" Pike's Peak that shines upon 
you all over Colorado. You cross it first near 
Carbondale, follow it to Burlingame, intersect 
it at Great Bend, go side-by-side with it up 
the fertile valley of the Arkansas, the Nile of 
America, cross it again at Trinidad, pass un- 
der it at the tunnel on the Raton Mountains, 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. I 5 

catch a glimpse of it at Wagon Mound, where 
a stage load of people were massacred thirty 
years ago, follow it up the Pecos, past Pecos 
church, built two hundred years or more be- 
fore the American Revolution, overlook it at 
Glorietta, where the Colorado boys fought and 
won in the early days of the war, and,' finally, 
accompanv it across the mesa, and when dim 
outlines and uncertain shapes have become 
blocks and squares, and convent and cathe- 
dral and towering cross are marked against 
the sky, enter with it, side by side, the oldest 
town in the United States. It is more than 
eight hundred miles in length, and has neither 
bridge nor ferr^' nor toll gate! 

The work of the old trail is done, and its 
object is accomplished, for it has been super- 
seded by that other line, over the same route, 
that has not only realized the most sanguine 
hopes of its projectors, but, in pursuing fur- 
ther the trail of Alva Nunes Cabeza de Vaca, 
down the Rio Grande to El Paso, and thence 



t6 wonderland ; the story of 

to the City of Mexico, is challenging the ad- 
miration of a continent. 

I can do no better, in relating the story of 
New Mexico, than to begin where this old 
trail ended, in the Damascus of America, the 
City of wSanta Fe, known in the archives of the 
Catholic Church as San Francisco de Asis de 
S^nta Fe, the City of the Holy Faith. 

Santa Fe is, and doubtless will continue to 
be, in a great degree. New Mexico. The cap- 
ital, military, ecclesiastical, educational, and 
largely the commercial center, it has a recog- 
nized importance that is not likely to be dis- 
turbed by any city in the Territory. It is the 
objective point for visitors of everv class, espe- 
cially health-seekers, and boasts a larger per 
cent, of transient guests than anv city in the 
Far West. At present the whites comprise 
but twenty per cent, of its population, but it is 
Americanizing very rapidly, and has daily pa- 
pers, gas, water works, street cars, and mod- 
ern hotels. The houses are built of adobe, or 
sun-dried brick, arc one storv in hight, with 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. I 7 

dirt roofs, and not iintrequently with battle- 
mented walls. This straining atter grandeur, 
in the midst of such manifest povert}', fairly 
illustrates the habits of the natives of the low- 
er classes, w^ho will have a pretentious head 
gear even though their limbs are supplied with 
the most indifferent clothing, or are destitute 
altogether. The sombrero and rebosa are the 
necessities of apparel, trousers and petticoats 
its luxuries. 

The exterior appearance of these houses is 
all there is against them, and they seem to be 
in disfavor as habitations onlv among those 
who know little or nothing about them. Cool 
in summer, warm in winfer, dry, light, health- 
ful, inexpensive, and enduring for centuries ; 
what other material combines so many merits ? 
The exterior is ding}' and uncouth, indeed, but 
the interior ! Ah ! what marvels of comfort, 
what massiveness, what impressiveness, what 
immunity from storm behind walls four feet in 
thickness ! And the antiquity of them ! The 
very walls have character, and individuality, 



i8 wonderland; the story of 

and history. There is an edueating and refin- 
ing intiuence in a building that has withstood 
the storms of centuries. A subtle inHuenee 
pervades the Pyramids that stand alter their 
builders have fallen and their names are for- 
got ; it is the eloquence of the centuries 
whispered down to us of man's mastery ol 
the elements that survives history, outlives 
tradition and lives on, serene and undisturbed 
as the storm-beaten hills. So these adobe 
walls tell us of plans formed and hopes real- 
ized, of bold resolve and bra\e endea\or, ol 
almost infinite toil and the reward ol' labor, as 
men have hoped and toiled through all the 
grand decades of time ; and thus, again, the 
"' touch of nature that makes the whole world 
kin." Here are buildings that were venerable 
when Washington was a boy — more than that, 
before the Sj^aniards struck the first blow at 
St. Augustine, there was a populous city where 
Santa Fe now stands, and long before the 
Pilgrims made ''the scnmiling aisles of the dim 
wofjds riiw' with tlie anthem ol' the free,"" the 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 



Cross had been planted three thousand miles 
interior from Plymouth Rock ! 

The streets of Santa Fe, except those imme- 
diateh' surrounding the Plaza, are narrow, 
crooked lanes in which American wagons can 
scarcely pass each other, and are despicable 
thoroughfares. They start out at right-angles 
but directly weace and stagger like drunken 
men and grow fainter and tainter until the\' 
are but a dim trail against the brown hills. 

One may walk tor hours in the suburbs of 
Santa Fe without seeing a t'amiliar object or 
liearing a familiar word. Let us see. Here 
is a street, a rod in width, bounded by dirt 
walls that are hollow, with shops in them. 
These walls are perhaps ten feet in height, 
and may enclose a palace or a hocel, a placita, 
beautiful with flowers and singing birds, or a 
prison, dark and noisome with blood-stained 
walls. They may conceal immense stocks of 
merchandise that were brought from beyond 
the sea, or grayes, with dates two hundred 
years old. These walls are of uniform height. 



20 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

whether house, garden or cemetery wall, and 
are pierced at regular intervals for doors, but 
have no windows in them. Originally they 
were without doors, and ingress was obtained 
bv scaling ladders ''over the garden wall." 
Rows of cactus bristle from the summit, mute 
witnesses of a lawless and bloody age long- 
past. 

The street is tilled with burros. They are 
loaded with every kind of produce and mer- 
chandise, strapped on their backs and by their 
sides with thongs of raw-hide. As we speak 
of the commerce of the states by car lots, so 
the term in the mountains is the burro. Here 
is a burro of wood, another of poultry, another 
of hay. Two burros of molasses, alias sorgh- 
um, and one of butter, alias oleomargarine, 
one burro of kegs, of uncertain contents, 
another of ep'Sfs of uncertain a^'e. No land- 
scape is complete without the burro, no day so 
hot or cold, so wet or drv, so still or stormy, 
but that his form appears. What shall I say 
of the burro? As meek as Moses, as patient 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 21 

as Job, careless and improvident as a tramp, 
suffering perpetual martyrdom to the greed 
and cruelty of man, he has been the camel of 
the desert, the raven, bringing food to the 
wilderness exile ; though the appendage of 
barbarism, the prophet of ci\'ilization ; ever\- 
where and always, the sign and symbol of a 
fading day, yet the harbinger of a brighter 
dawn. When New Mexico assumes her star, 
the burro, not plodding and dejected, but erect 
and rampant, should be the central figure of 
her great seal. 

Here comes a cctrrefa, a cart of wicker- 
work with tires of raw-hide on the wheels. 
Here a priest, smiling mysteriously, has stop- 
ped to soothe the cries of a beggar, with a 
benediction and a Mexican quarter. Here 
comes an Alcalde, who is a bigger man than 
the man who was bigger than Grant. Here 
are a couple ol turbaned maids with baskets 
of apricots on their heads and boquets ol' 
flowers in their hands. They are barefooted 
and brown as a nut and their black eyes have 



2 2 wonderland; the story of 

the alert glance of wild animals. They have 
been to contessional this morning and they 
will be at the baile to-night. They are good 
girls, as the custom otthe countr\' is, and tbnd 
of hue II a Americanos^ with whom they will 
smoke cig'am'tos' and dance till the moon goes 
down — si senor, si seiior. 

Here is a hole in the wall where a door has 
fallen down and we see that we have passed 
into the country, for a strange looking man is 
cutting strange looking grass with a sickle ; 
another is iioeing with a sharpened stick, and 
another is plowing with a forked log and a 
\oke of oxen. 

This is a picture of Santa Fe as 1 saw it first 
in 1878. It is changing rapidly now. Steam 
:uul electricity are waking it from the slumber 
of centuries to a new lite so strange, so para- 
doxical, so lull ot wonders and grand possibili- 
ties that he who would see the relics of royalty 
in our republic, must hasten or he will be too 
late. 

There are frecpient festal days in Santa Fe 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 2^ 

where a stranger scene is presented. The 
most notable of these is in honor of Our Lady 
of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico. 
Once a year, in early summer, the entire pop- 
ulation turns out to the feast. First the priests, 
bearing- upon their shoulders a palankeen, 
whereon is placed an image of the saint, then 
a company of virgins clad in white robes, and 
after these the multitude. Along the way to 
the chapel the children bring flowers from the 
placitas, to which they have free access on 
that day, and scatter in the street. Devout 
citizens also spread rugs and carpets for the 
throng to tread upon. And so the procession 
moves on, solemn and staid in demeanor in 
tVont, and gay with singing and dancing and 
the rattle of castinets in the rear. 

Arrived at the chapel the priests implore 
Our Lady of Guadalupe for timely rains and 
all temporal good. This they continue to do 
for a week, when the image is restored to its 
place in the cathedral. There is an allegorical 
picture hanging in the chapel copied from the 



24 wonderland; the story of 

one in the chapel at Guadalupe, Mexico. It 
represents the Virgin of Guadalupe and the 
miracle wrought at her command by Juan 
DieiTO, who o-athered flowers on the mesa in 
midwinter and laid them at the feet of the 
wondering priests. 

The Plaza in Santa Fe is a popular evening 
resort. The military band discourses sweet 
music and impromptu dances last until a late 
hour. In the center is a marble and granite 
monument in honor of those who fell in the 
war for the Union and the \arious Indian wars 
of New Mexico, 'i'he inscription is misspelt 
and is remarkable for containing the name 
" rebel," being withouta parallel in this respect 
in the United States. 

Around the Plaza stands a row of cotton- 
wood trees, regularly graduated in size from 
one two feet in diameter, to a mere sapling. 
There is a tradition that these are memorial 
trees, planted b\- the successive vice-ro\al 
rulers who have occupied the Palace, but this 
is erroneous. The eight largest, in front of 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 25 

the Palace, were planted by Governor Marinao 
Martinez, in 1844, long alter Mexico had 
achieved her independence, and the remainder 
have been planted since the American occu- 
pancy. 

Visitors to Santa Fe should devote at least 
a week to sight-seeing. The military head- 
quarters, old Fort Marcy on the hill, the 

cemetery under the hill, where the slain of the 
r 

revolt and Second Conquest are buried and 
where their bones dot the adobes to-day, San 
Miguel Chapel, the oldest house of worship 
in the United States, the Old Pueblo house, 
the oldest residence in the United States, the 
Cathedral, and the Palace, will profitably 
occupy the time. 

The exact age of the Palace is not known, 
but it is a matter of record that Santa Fe was 
the capital under the reign of Pedro de Per- 
alta in 1600. It is, therefore, probably three 
hundred years of age, but is a modern build- 
ing compared with the Old Pueblo house 



26 WONDER I.AND ; THE STORY OF 

which survi\'cs from the wreck of a pre- 
historic city. 

On the 1 2th da}' ot' August, 1680, began 
one oi the most memorable sieges in histor}'. 
Spanish domination had become intolerable 
even to the long suffering and stoical Pueblos, 
and a revolt was determined upon, A wily 
politician and warrior, named l-*ope, organized 
the rebellion and led the forces. Three thous- 
and savages suddenly appeared on the hills 
north of Santa Fe and demanded of Gover- 
nor Ottermin the surrender of the citv. The 
demand was met by the most determined 
resistance. The Spanish settlers flocked in 
from the vicinit\', everybodv flew to arms, the 
women vied with the men in barricading the 
streets and digging trenches. Implements, 
vehicles, furniture, merchandise — ever\'thing, 
was piled up in the way to resist the attack. 
For eight days they fought and for eight 
nights they buried their dead. Santa Fe be- 
came a hospital and ever\' house was a house 
of mourninii'. On the morninir of the ninth 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW xMEXICO. 27 

day came the decisive struggle, when toe to 
toe and face to face, the peon and the master 
met, and the master was mastered. 

Pouring in resistless tide over the barricades, 
the savages put the tieeing Spaniards to the 
sword, the spear, the bludgeon. Arms were 
wrung from the hands of the slain to spread 
the havoc, and the plaza was red with blood. 
Five hundred Spaniards and thirty priests 
were left dead upon the field as their comrades 
rushed pell mell from their capital and took up 
their distressing march for El Paso del Norte. 
The humiliating spectacle of the haughty 
Spaniard fleeing from his slave was intensifled 
when the proud Ottermin was compelled to 
walk that his wounded and decrepit might 
have horses to ride. 

Thus the mailed and disciplined soldiers of 
Castile were vanquished, and thus the Indians 
regained possession of the country. 

The Indians burned down the public build- 
ings and Spanish residences and made a bon- 
tire on the plaza of the church vestments. 



28 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

They bathed themselves to cleanse away the 
baptism of the priests, forbade the use ol the 
Spanish language, and declared that the sun 
Avas the only god that lived. During the night 
they held a disgusting carnival in the palace, 
danced the cachiiuu or " Devil dance,'"' dis- 
solved all marriages solemnized bv the priests, 
and took new wives and husbands with the 
greatest freedom and license. 

Thirteen years passed, during which time 
the Indians held possession of the countrw 
Ottermin applied tor reinforcements, and in 
November, 1681, started up the valle\' of the 
Rio Grande to recapture Santa Fe. At Isleta 
he found three thousand savages assembled to 
oppose his progress. He was out of provi- 
sions, his men were barefooted, his animals 
were starving, the country was barren, and a 
deep snow covered the ground. Under these 
circumstances Ottermin retreated to El Paso 
and soon after gave up the command. 

His successor failed in several expeditions, 
and it was not until 1693 that success crowned 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 29 

the Spanish arms. In that year a fussy little 
ibllow penetrated the eountrv to Santa Fe, 
defeated the Indians after a hard day's battle 
in the suburbs, and planted his colors above 
the Palace in the name of King Charles 
Second. His own name and title was Diego 
de Vergara Zapata Lu Juan Ponce de Leon, 
Governor and Captain (icneral of New Spain. 

V^ergara found San Miguel church disman- 
tled and set about restoring it. The roof 
beams were brought thirtv miles, and seven- 
teen vears elapsed belbre the work was 
accomplished. The achievement is duly re- 
orded on a cedar beam that supports the gal- 
lery, bearing date of 17 10. 

The exterior is not imposing. The walls 
are ten feet in thickness at the ground and 
taper to four at the top. Fragments of pot- 
tery dot the adobes here and there, and in a 
rude belfry at the top hangs a quaint little bell 
that was fashioned in Barcelona three hundred 
vears ago, which still peals. forth its matin and 
its vesper song in sweetest tones. The inte- 



30 WONDERI>AND ; THE STORY OF 

rior is neatly whitewashed and hung- with 
sacred pictures. The faint hght that strug-gles 
in from the httle windows, away up by the 
ceihng, deepens tiie solemn hush of the place. 
The censer still burns betore the image of the 
suffering Christ, and the muffled worshipers 
silently come and go as they have for cen- 
turies. 

The Palace extends along one whole side 
of the Plaza, five hundred and fifty feet. It is 
one storv in height, with a veranda in fVont 
and neglected court in the rear. It is a queer 
old place. Wide halls lead to spacious apart- 
ments, where ample fireplaces in the corners 
and massive furniture give an idea of the 
comfortable old fellows who once occupied it 
with almost kingh- authority The bancjuet 
hall has been subdivided, and is used for legis- 
lative purposes. The royal stables were at 
the opposite end, and are now the elegantly 
api^ointed rooms of the Ignited vStates marshal. 
The Territorial Court occupies other rooms, 
but the principal office and suite of rooms 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 3 I 

belonging to it, that were occupied by Pedro de 
Peralta two hundred and eighty years ago, 
are the present governor's quarters,, where I 
found Lew Wallace sitting in the royal chair 
ofstate, and later Governor Sheldon, the pres- 
ent executi\e. 

The library is still the same, and is stored 
with some cords of Spanish archives that con- 
tain a detailed history of every expedition of 
war and commerce for the last three hundred 
years. The custodian ol" these archives at 
one time, sold them to the merchants for wrap- 
ping paper, and thirty cart loads were actualh- 
delivered for that purpose. The citizens 
called an indignation meeting and the musty 
old documents were seized and restored to 
the Palace. The author of this outrage after- 
wards invested in a newspaper at Mesilla, but 
the railroad four miles distant does not '"' lend 
enchantment to the view."" 

Another resident of Mesilla is serving a 
generous term in prison lor issuing Iraudulent 
land grants. A dim, shadowy and troubled 



32 wonderland; the story of 

suspicion of his nationality may be obtained 
trom his name — jesus Maria Gomez v Lopez. 
He considered himself monarch of all he sur- 
veyed and granted a region two hundred 
miles square to his sweetheart without con- 
sideration. The courts intert'ered in bchalt ol 
other sweethearts and the Alexander Selkirk 
business proved a failure. 

The prison rooms are also unchanged. They 
arc vacant, but have the most interesting his- 
tory ^connected with the building. At the 
time of the Second Conquest seventy Indian 
warriors secreted themsehes here, hoping to 
escape under cover of the night, but the\' 
were discovered and made an example ot in 
front of the Palace. Others, during its blood\' 
history, whose onl\- crime was a lo\'c of their 
natiye land, were marched out and shot at 
the command ol the roAal ruler. One of the 
more notable of its modern j^risoners was 
Zebulon Montgomer\' Pike, who was im})ris- 
oned here a short time in 1806. He was well 
treated, however, because even at that early 



ACIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 33 

period the United States was known to be a 
serious enemy to trifle witli. 

In the court yard the seventy Indian war- 
riors were buried and their bleaching bones 
that stare at you at every step confirm the 
lyjhastlv history of the spot. 

Opposite the Palace stood the flrst Cathe- 
dral. On a calm Sabbath morning more than 
two hundred years ago, the solemn hush of 
worship was broken by the yells of savages, 
and priest and people, men and women and 
nursing babes, fell mangled and dying, nor 
resistance, nor prayers, nor appeals for mercy, 
availed to save the strong or ransom the 
defenseless. The building was razed to the 
ground, its inmates, without exception, slain, 
and their dissevered heads kicked about the 
Plaza like foot-balls. Visit the new Cathedral, 
the finest church edihce between the Missis- 
sippi and the Pacific, and you will agree that 
" the blood of the mart\rs is the seed of the 
church." 

A day may be pleasantly spent in visiting 



34 WONDER r.AND ; THE STORY OF' 

the curiosity shops ot' Santa Fc where the so- 
called ancient pottery is exposed lor sale. The 
supply seems to be as inexhaustable as the 
original war club intended to tiatten the head 
of Capt. John vSmith. Like the somewhat 
numerous [ohn vSmith t'amih', so the clubs 
seem to be running- a race tor immortality; and 
so also the ancient pottery, made yesterday 
and sold to-day. The Pueblo Indians along 
the Rio Grande excel in manutacturing anti- 
quities. Images are their specialty. Images 
of birds, minus leathers, plus teeth and horns; 
images of bulialo, with impossible tails, curled 
in threatening and improbable attitudes ; im- 
ages of men with an abnormal development 
of feet; images offish conveniently turnished 
with lejjs to be used in seasons of drouth. 
These are their stock in trade and will be 
until the supply of mud is exhausted and each 
and every one is warranted to be a Simon- 
pure Aztec relic. So the artless aborigine 
informs you in abbreviated English, but the 
mischievous twinkle of his eye, as he hears 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 35 

the clink of your coins, betrays the fraud. 
In a jewelry store, however, you may see, 
but cannot purchase, a genuine relic, not of 
the Aztecs, but of a lover's love, ^\'ho spent a 
fortune in a bracelet for a fair sefiorita who 
was to be, but never was, his bride. The name 
of the lady is forgotten by every one save a 
decrepit old Don, who haunts the streets by 
day and lodges nobody knows where at night, 
but the legend is repeated again and again to 
strangers who visit the city. It is this: 

Seventy years ago Don Francisco Abeta, 
the scion of a proud family who trace their 
lineage through centuries of Spanish history, 
fell in love with a beautiful girl in the City of 
Mexico. Friends interfered to defeat the un- 
ion and availed to postpone the nuptials two 
years, and further to prove his love persuaded 
Francisco to spend the time abroad. With 
a woman's devotion the nameless beauty fol- 
lowed her lover to Vera Cruz and watched his 
departing vessel until it disappeared between 
sea and sky. 



36 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

Arrived in Madrid, Francisco ordered tlie 
wedding jewels to be made, conspicuous 
among them this armlet, as wide as a lady's 
hand and burdened with gems. A score of 
workmen wrought upon it more than a year, 
and grouped upon the massive band four 
thousand tiny balls of gold and gems in beau- 
tiful and fantastic shapes. Francisco spent 
weeks in watching the slow process of its man- 
ufacture and doted on the time when it should 
encircle its wearer's arm. Twice he made 
important changes in the design, to gratify 
some whim of hers that he recalled, and long 
before it was completed, the fashionable and 
gay of the capital had heard of the rare jewel 
and learned the romantic history of the two 
lives it was to seal in one. 

At last it was finished. The chased and 
studded gold could be burnished no more. 
The filagree of vines and tendrils, bearing- 
fruitage of amethyst, turquoise and pearl, the 
tiny lizards, half hidden in the silver lace- 
work, and the imprisoned parrot whose head 



ACIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 37 

was garnished with gems, had received the 
last deft touch of genius and could be beauti- 
fied no more. 

And so Francisco took his treasures and 
sailed away. How the time seemed long, 
how the winds were contrary, and the sea 
rough, how he counted the days of his ^vaiting 
and dreamed ot a radiant beauty at night. 
How the passengers came to know his secret 
and playfully chided him upon his impatience. 
How he displayed the jewel to the ladies, but 
refused to clasp it on their arms, saying never 
woman should wear it but she. All this is a 
part of the storv, these were incidents of the 
journey, the saddest journey that ever man 
made, that ended at last and in despair to poor 
Francisco, who, as the vessel touched the 
pier, heard the knell of his hopes in the one 
word, "dead."''' 

And so the earth became a desert and he 
an aimless wanderer. He saunters about dazed 
and dreaming, makes friends easily and soc^n 
besj'ins to tell his storv, but when he hesitates 



38 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

and staggers in his speech and you instinctive- 
ly try to help him, the spell is broken and with 
a vacant stare he points you to the jewelry 
store and says no more. The old man's mind 
is dimming with the shadows of the grave. 
He'll soon solve the enigma of life and know 
whether it is worth while to love. Meantime 
the gems in the armlet sparkle in their beau- 
tiful setting of turquoise and gold and keep 
the memory of her who was to wear them 
imperishable and bright. 

In every direction from wSanta Fe are ob- 
jects of interest to the tourist and antiquarian 
that neither this practical age nor any to come, 
can wholly impair or destroy. To the north 
is Taos, whose foundations are older than his- 
tory and the customs of whose people may 
not be disturbed bv modern inventions. Hith- 
er was brought the sacred tire, here the estu- 
fa is maintained with its ancient rites, and 
from the housetops the people hail the rising 
sun and watch for the coming of Montezuma. 
In the A'icinitv are mines throut^h whose de- 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 39 

vious tunnels the peons groped, and up whose 
sHppery shafts they brought milHons of wealth 
to their haughty masters, and while they toiled 
prayed for the coming of one whose sign was 
the sun in the East, and not a crucifix and sable 
gown. 

To the east of Santa Fe is Pecos church, 
one of the most interesting relics in New 
Mexico. A few minutes' walk from the little 
railway station in the mountains brings you 
to it. 1 first visited it in the last days of the 
overland stage coach, and stopped at the way- 
side Inn of Madam Kos kilos ki, where, when 
the candles were lighted, and the tea table 
spread with the whitest linen and the quaint- 
est china, she set our fancies all aglow with 
the weird stories of the place. She told us 
with religious fervor that Montezuma, the 
Culture God, was born at the old city, the 
ruins of which could be seen from her door, 
that here he was crowned and reigned amid 
their number being about three thousand. 
Nearly one hundred years afterward, when 



40 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

the homage of multitudes. She related the 
origin of the Sacred Fire and the injunction 
of Montezuma to keep it burning until he 
should come again from the east, whereupon 
he departed for the Southland, riding upon the 
back of an eagle. She spoke of the cruelty of 
his successor for the time being, a great snake 
who exacted the tribute of a babe every morn- 
ing at sunrise, until snake and sacred tire were 
removed to Taos. Coming down to later 
times, she referred to the history of the old 
tavern, with its stone floors and massive doors, 
more like a prison than a dwelling. It had 
been the headquarters of both Mexican and 
American armies, and in the vard were the 
graves of half a hundred men killed at (jlori- 
etta. 

According to the best information Pecos 
Church was built by the Franciscan Friars in 
1543. At the time of the actual Spanish dom- 
ination of the country, some fifty years after- 
w^ard, the Indians of the pueblo which sur- 
rounded the church voluntaril\- surrendered 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 4 1 

their number being about tiiree thousand. 
Nearly one hundred 3'ears afterward, when 
the great revolt occurred, these Indians re- 
mained loyal to the church and crown, but 
their neighbors of the pueblos of Galisteo and 
San Domingo fired the roof of Pecos church, 
destroyed the church vestments, and killed the 
priest. Father Velasco. In retaliation for this 
the Pecos tribe allied themselves with Teujas 
and exterminated the Galisteo pueblo. This 
was in 1680. In 1689 Governor Cruzate 
granted eighteen thousand acres of land in 
the vicinity to the Pecos pueblo as a reward 
for their fidelity. In 1837 but five families 
remained of the once powerful pueblo, and 
these were removed to the Jamez tribe, in the 
valley of the Rio Grande, where their descen- 
dants remain at the present day. 

The form of the church is that of a Roman 
cross, one hundred and sixty feet in length, 
and fifty-five feet in width. The walls were 
thirty-four feet in hight and four feet in thick- 
ness. They were built of large and unusually 



42 WONDERI.AND ; THE STORY OF 

well-prepared adobes. Upon breaking open 
one of them, I found two grains of wheat, as 
fresh and sound as when they escaped the 
eye of the crleanino- Ruth three hundred and 
forty years ago. The windows are small and 
placed fifteen feet from the ground. The}' are 
barred with cedar bars, aad look prison-like 
and gloomy. 

Under the altar is a vault, and from the 
bottom leads out a subterranean passage in 
the direction of a building several rods away, 
the walls of which were thicker than those 
of the church, and the object of wdiich can 
only be surmised. 

The pueblo surrounding the church is a 
relic of the Aztecs or their imitators in wor- 
ship. It was a walled town, occupying a 
rocky ridge between the Pecos and a small 
tributary, was oblong in shape, and consisted 
of a chain of houses four stories in hight, en- 
closing a court or plaza several hundred feet 
in length. These houses were built with two 
stories above and two below the surface, with 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 43 

no doors or windows on the outer side. In 
the center of the plaza were three stone-walled 
vaults twenty feet in diameter. Tradition says 
these were the council chambers and places of 
the sacred hre. 

Great quantities of pottery in fragments and 
an occasional stone chisel may be found. 

Antiquarians have long disputed whether 
Sante Fe or Pecos church occupies the site of 
the ancient city of Cicuye. I'he description 
given by Castaiieda de Nagera, the chronicler 
of the expedition of Coronado, in 1540, would 
seem to indicate the latter. The dimensions 
of the plaza, the ""vapor baths'' in the center, 
the buildings, the rock on which they were 
built and the surroundings all accurately agree 
with the present ruins of the pueblo of Pecos. 
Coronado says he found a city extending two 
leagues ak)ng a stream; and a chain of villages, 
still surviving or in ruins, mav be traced that 
distance along the Pecos as plainly as those 
along Santa Fe creek. But the strongest ar- 
ii'ument in favor of Pecos seems to be the 



14 VVOxXDERI.AND ; THE STORY OF 

river. Coronado's army of eight hundred men 
\vas detained a week to bridge the stream, 
which would hardly have been possible with 
a brook like Santa Fe creek. 

Be this as it may, there is incontestible evi- 
dence in the relics that abound that the inhab- 
itants were sun worshippers, and, if so, the 
conclusion follows that the horrid rites of hu- 
man sacrifice which characterized their relig- 
ion were practiced here. The sacrificial altar, 
the sacrificial knite, the pampered victim going 
f'orth bedecked and smiling to his fate. The 
savage thrust, the gurgling groan, the reeking 
heart held aloft before the shouting multitude 
— this scene may have been enacted here in 
obedience to the dictates of a fhith that sur- 
vives to this day in the tortures of the cactus 
thong and kindred crimes committed by the 
Penitent es. 

x\nd though the anxious watchers scanned 
the eastern sky in vain for the coming of their 
Culture God, yet in due time he came, and a 
mightier than Montezuma. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 45 

One morning two hundred years after the 
revolt at Santa Fe, a great black monarch 
marched up the mountain, step b}^ step, wi:h 
stately tread. The Ibrests and the mines had 
been shorn ot' their treasures to do him honor, 
and servile courtiers wove a w^eb of oak and 
steel fcr his royal feet. It was indeed the 
shining path of a King. And as he came to 
mingle evermore his shrill commands with 
the music of the spheres, his heralds sang. It 
was the song of the spikes the}' sang — the 
clink ! clink ! cling ! of the refrain that told of 
states wedded with bands of steel, of sections 
locked indissolubly together, of nations wed- 
ded never to be divorced, of realms opened 
for happy homes, of lands for the landless, 
mo ley for the moneyless, bread for the hun- 
gry, and shoes for bare feet. They may have 
failed to recognize him, this strange people 
who live in squalor and least their fancies on 
hopes as vain and unsubstantial as a dream, 
but they shall yd hail him as their prophet, 
deliverer, and king. 



46 WONDERJ.AND ; IHE STOKY OF 

Within easy reach of Santa Fe, on the south, 
are a number of abandoned Spanish mines, 
around which hngers the charm of antiquity 
and traditions both romantic and tragric. In 
the Ceri-illo and Ortez mountains are more 
than tilty of these mines, once the scene of 
busy hfe and the source of untold wealth. 
Two of them are especially interesting: Mina 
del Tiro, and Chalchihuitl. The former yield- 
ed three millions of dollars during the Spanish 
occupancy, a tenth of which, as of all mines 
worked at that time, was given to the church. 

Leaving the cars at the little station of Cer- 
rillos, at the foot of the mountains, mv travel- 
ing companion and I were directed to follow 
a path up the canon to the mines. Mina del 
Tiro is in litigation, and at the time of our 
visit was locked and guarded. We came to a 
tent by the roadside, and near it found a jollv 
Scotchman reading Bobby Burns. At first he 
refused us admittance to the mine, but after 
persistent solicitation finally yielded, and laid 
back the si^reat oaken door and allowed us to 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 47 

descend its murky depths. Hand over hand 
down pole ladders zigzagging first to one side 
and then to the other, resting at jutting rocks 
that gave them but a precarious footing — in 
this manner we descended one hundred and 
twentv teet, when our progress was inter- 
rupted by water. The extreme depth of the 
mine is unknown, sounding being impractica- 
ble, but tradition says it is six hundred feet. 
At the water line is a vein of gray copper five 
feet in thickness. This alone is worth years 
of litigation. 

Turning to retrace our steps, the possibility 
of accidents occurred to us. What if these 
pole ladders, that had not been used for two 
centuries, should break under our weight ? 
What if our lamps should fail and leave us to 
wander without light or guide in these long- 
forgotten chambers ? 

A mile away, standing apart from the group, 
is a conical mass of rock and earth, rising live 
hundred feet above the plain, and surmounted 
bv an immense wooden cross. This is the 



48 WONDERI^ANI) ; THE STORY OF 

famous Chalchihiiitl, or Turquoise mountain, 
yielding the sacred stone of the Aztecs. By 
them it was held above price, and regarded 
as a sure protection against every ill. During 
the Spanish occupancy it was also an impor- 
tant article of commerce, and one cubic inch 
was valued at $2,500 in Madrid. From this 
mountain two tine s]:)ecimens were sent to the 
King of Spain and placed in the royal crown. 
Abundant evidences of the importance of this 
mine are still to be seen. Two immense open 
cuts disfigure the mountain, one ot them two 
hundred feet across and a hundred feet deep. 
At the bottom of this crater-like opening the 
shait begins, .and extends to an unknown 
depth. 

Some idea of the length of time this mine 
was worked mav be formed by the accunu- 
lation of earth and rock at its mouth. This 
covers an area of tit'teen acres to a d;jpth of 
from five to twenty feet ! Not with modern 
appliances and steam hoisting apparatus, but 
in leathern pcniches strapped to the backs of 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXlCt). 49 

slaves, up slippery pole ladders, hundreds of 
feet to the surface, was this vast burden 
brought. Centuries were required for its ac- 
complishment — centuries that are black with 
suffering, with outrage, with brutal wrong. 
Upon this mass of earth the slow -growing 
cedar and pinon have grown up to forests. 

A few miles south of Chalchihuitl are the 
ruins of Malla, described as a mining town of 
importance, by Coronado, who was detained 
here a week by being thrown from his horse. 
Piles of slag and cinders and ruined furnaces 
confirm the report. Near by are the old pla- 
cer mines worked by the Spaniards centuries 
ago. The snows have disappeared with the 
forests, and mining operations have been sus- 
pended for ages, but particles of gold may be 
seen in the sand at your feet. One of the 
ladies of our party borrowed a tin pan at the 
hotel, and from a gallon of sand washed out 
seven colors of efold, 

Such are the environments of Santa Fe. 

If you will go with me to the southwestern 



50 WONDERl.y\ND ; THE STORY OF 

portion of Colorado and climb the continental 
divide to a point twelve thousand feet above 
the sea, v^here the snowdrifts scarcely soften 
in the midsummer sun, you will find an ice- 
bound lake, and issuing from it a tiny rivulet 
no wider than a man's hand. Amid the im- 
pressive scenery of the place it is scarcely no- 
ticed or deemed worthy of a thought, but as 
it flows on, and widens and deepens, and cuts 
its way through mountain ranges and rock- 
ribbed hills, and so reaches the broad valley 
that stretches away for more than fifteen hun- 
dred miles to the sea, it takes the name of 
river, and no other river on the American 
continent has greater charms of historic in- 
terest than the Rio Grande del Norte. Cen- 
turies ago, before histor}^ began, beyond the 
ken of tradition or the realm of story, men 
inhabited this valley and built their houses* in 
the clifts, in inaccessible and secure retreats, 
where no enemy could approach, nor wild 
beast wander for its prey. They chose nar- 
row canons deemed impassible to-day, and 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 5 I 

shadowy defiles avoided by even the fowls of 
the air; but if there be society in the woods, 
voices in rocks, and songs in babbling brooks, 
these people lacked not for companionship. 
The walls are of basaltic rocks, smoothly pol- 
ished by the elements or hewn into columns 
that rise a thousand feet in hight. The val- 
ley, at this point but a few rods in width, is 
carpeted with the freshest grass, and gliding 
over a bed of white sand flows the river. 
From the water's edge to the beetling crags, 
a thousand feet above, the wild rose and hon- 
eysuckle shed their fragrance on the air; and 
higher still, against a background of cedars 
and pines that are swayed by gales one can- 
not hear, flame out the gorgeous hues of the 
omnipresent cacti. There are alcoves grand- 
er than the grandest works of men, and arches 
through wkich a ship of war might pass with- 
out touching mast or spar or keel. Dark cav- 
erns are there, through which gurgle down 
subterranean streams that fling silvery cas- 
cades into pools paved with golden sands and 



52 WONOEKl^ANU ; THE STORY OF 

o\er whose brim falls lace-like spray fairer 
than a bride's veil on her wedding day. You 
ascend the face of the canon b}- a path scarce- 
l)' a yard in width, and climb laboriously until 
river and valley disappear, the silence becomes 
oppressive, and, awe-stricken, you feel like an 
intruder upon the sacred precincts of the A\- 
mightw 

At length the doors are reached, and the 
black dots that specked the walls prove large 
enough for men and animals to enter, and the 
ro(mis to which they admit you are spacious 
enough lor thousands of people and their 
flocks and herds. Room succeeds room until 
you are amazed at the achievements of this 
lost race. These great apartments were ex- 
cavated trom solid rock by some process that 
perished with its authors. Here are the fire- 
places black with smoke and time, and the 
half-burnt faggots that died out centuries ago. 
Returning to the entrance, you stand upon the 
narrow shelf and look above you, for you dare 
not look down, (jreat trees that appear mere 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. ^^ 

shrubs crown the canon walls so far above 
you they seem companions of the clouds that 
drift idly away like white-winged shtps upon 
a summer sea. Who these people were that 
chose these solitudes for their habitations, the 
dire necessit}^ for this perilous retreat, their 
loves, their hates, their habits and their fate, 
whence they came and whither they have 
gone, are themes for the imagination. 

Then came another race, numerous, intelli- 
gent, and powerful. These too ante-date his- 
tory, and have left no monuments save their 
ruined cities. They were more aggressive, 
and penetrated the countr}' for many leagues 
on either side of the valle}-. They established 
communities whose achievements are a won- 
der of the present age, when the obstacles 
they overcame are considered. Cities with 
populous streets and pretentious piles of stone 
were the pride and glory of a people to-day 
without a name. One of the principal objects 
of Coronado was to hnd La Gran (^uivira, the 
city of which fabulous stories had been told. 



54 wonderland; the story of 

After a long and fatiguing journey ii city ot 
that name was reached, and Castaneda says 
of it: '■'"Up to that point the whole country is 
only one plain; at Quivira mountains begin to 
be perceived. From what was seen it appears 
to be a well-peopled countr)^ The plants and 
fruit generally resemble those of Spain: plums, 
grapes, nuts, mulberries, rye, grass, oats, pen- 
nyroyal, origanum, and flax, which the natives 
do not cultivate because they do not under- 
stand the use of it. Their manners and cus- 
toms are the same as those of Tegas, and the 
villages resemble those of Spain."" This was 
in 1540. In 1694 the ''War Captain" of Pecos 
pueblo, accompanied by eight Apaches, visit- 
ed Don Vergara at Santa Fe, and during the 
interview Vergara inquired the distance to 
Quivira, to which they replied it was twenty- 
five days' travel : that the}^ knew the country 
well, for the reason that thev w^ent to Qiiivira 
to secure captives to trade for horses. This 
proves that (!Viiivira was inhabited at that time 
and was probably a prosperous communitv. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 55 

In 1853 Major Carlton, of the United States 
Army, says of Qiiivira: 

"These ruins consist of the remains of a 
laro^e church or cathedral with a monaster^■ 
attached, a small church or chapel, and the 
ruins of the town extending nine hundred feet 
in a direction east-and-west and three hun- 
dred feet north-and-south. All these build- 
ings have been constructed of the dark-blue 
limestone which is found in. the vicinity. The 
walls of the cathedral are now about thirty 
feet in hight. It was estimated from the great 
quantity of stones that has fallen down, form- 
ing; a sort of talus both within the walls and 
outside of them, that originally this building 
was all of fifty feet in hight. There is a small 
room to the right as you enter the cathedral, 
and another room which is very large and 
which communicates with the main body ot 
the building by a door at the left of the tran- 
sept. There was also a communication be- 
tween this large room and the monastery, or 
system of cloisters which are attached to the 



56 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

cathedral. This building is one hundred and 
eighteen feet long outside, and thirty-two feet 
in width. Its walls are three feet :ind eight 
inches in thickness. It is apparently in a bet- 
ter state of preservation than the cathedral, 
but yet none of the former woodwork remains 
in it. Among the ruins are found great quan- 
tities of broken earthenware, some of which 
had been handsomely painted and glazed. An 
old road runs toward the east, and large ce- 
dar trees are growing along it. The country 
round about shows no traces of ever having 
been cultivated, and the nearest water is at 
the base of the mountain fifteen miles away." 
The ruins of Quivira to-day are, if possible, 
more desolate than when Maj. Carlton visited 
them. The decay and extinction of this pros- 
perous and happy community is a sad com- 
mentary upon modern civilization. When the 
European found them they were surrounded 
by abundance of grain and of fruits, and the 
scene reminded the invader of his home in 
Spain. A hundred and fifty years later they 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 57 

had reached a degree of civihzation >vhere 
their daughters could be traded for horses, 
and at the end of another hundred and fifty 
years they had disappeared utterly, and it was 
even doubted if their country could have been 
inhabited ! 

That the residents of Quivira were a race 
distinct from the Pueblo Indians seems cer- 
tain, since the Pueblos disclaim any knowl- 
edge of them, and have no traditions that fur- 
nish a clue to unravel the mystery of their 
origin (jr nationality. 

Next came tlie Pueblo Indians. They oc- 
cupy much of the country to-day, and furnish 
illustrious exambles of docility and indolent 
contentment. It is difficult to believe they 
were ever goaded to war. no matter what the 
pro\"ocation. The conqueror who came with 
the cross and the sword crushed out their 
spirit utterly and forever. But not in a year 
nor a generation was this accomplished. It 
was more than half a century after Coronado 
came that Onate tounded San Gabriel, and 



58 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

the last seventeen years ol this period was 
one continual war. 

Then lor nearly a century the Spaniards 
held undisturbed sway. Mines of gold, sil- 
ver, copper, and turquoise were opened, and 
yielded fabulous wealth. And while the pe- 
ons toiled, their haughty masters reveled in 
debauchery and ill-gotten gain. 

There came a limit to endurance at last, 
and the revolt of 1680 was the result. 

On the return of peace, in 1693, came affil- 
iation and friendship. The Spaniards thought 
of love, but they were far from home, and, 
from necessity, wooed the Pueblo maidens. 
From this union sprang the Mexican race, a 
race that represents in the phases of its peo- 
ple all the ingredients ol its origin — Spaniard, 
Moor, Indian — Mexican. 'J'here are a few 
families in which the Castilian predomindtes, 
but the great majority are scarcely fairer than 
their aboriginal neighbors. 

These exceptional lamilies have, until the 
advent of the railroads, dominated the coun- 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 59 

try commercially and politically, and have fur- 
nished the church the means of establishing 
what has been till recently in effect an eccle- 
siastical empire. 

As vou pass down the valley, the eye fol- 
lows pleasantly the winding thread of emer- 
ald fields dotted with the ever-recurring cross 
and church. There are thousands of crosses 
in New Mexico besides those on the church 
spires and in the church yards. You see them 
all about the country. It is the trade mark of 
every locality and occupation. It would be 
difficult to imagine a time or place where a 
cross would be inappropriate — at the intersec- 
tion of roads, the crossing of streams, on the 
tops ol" mountains, in the valleys, and far out 
on the plains. They mark burial places, rest- 
ing places of the procession, memorials of the 
Penitentes — crosses, crosses everywhere. At 
these crosses are heaps of stones deposited by 
devout passers-by as a tribute to the luckless 
traveler who met his fate by poisoned arrow, 
bv the treachery of companions, or by disease. 



6o WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

The Mexican may never have heard, and he 
certainly cannot remember, the names of those 
buried there, but he pays his tribute as he 
pays his tithes, and, uncovering, kisses the 
cross as fervently as a parent embraces a 
child. 

Villages also dot the valley for hundreds of 
miles. You are never out of sight of them. 
Villaa'es of dirt houses, vs'ith fences of the 
same, and inhabitants of a color to corre- 
spond. Trees canopy them, vineyards sur- 
round them, ri\ulets of sparkling water tio\v 
through their streets, milk and hone\' abound, 
and the soft notes of the guitar mingle with 
bells all the livelong dav. The principal ones 
are San Domingo, Los Ranches, Bernalillo, 
Albuquerque, Isleta, Peralta, Las Lunas, Li- 
mitar, Socorro. San Marcial, Valverde, Las 
Cruces, Mesilla, and El Paso.. These names 
are nbt unknown to histor\', and h;i\"e tradi- 
otins that curdle the blood. 

At San Marcial the railrojid cr<vsses the riv- 
er and climbs to the )ornada del Muerto, th t 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 6 1 

treeless stretch of country without stream or 
spring or shadow of rock, that has been the 
terror of travelers for centuries. Once it may 
have been a lake, deep and blue and beautiful; 
later it may have been a valley, verdant and 
lair; but to-day it is the abomination of deso- 
lation, the corpse of a rei ion that can never 
be resuscitated. No foot of wild animal tracks 
its burning sand, no fowl or insect dots its fiery 
sky. The croaking raven, even, is gone, scared 
at the fulfillment ot' its own worst prophecy. 

x\nd yet this has been crossed b}' caravans 
ever since De Vaca led his wandering expedi- 
tion for nine years between the South Atlantic 
c vast and the city of Mexico, in the sixteenth 
century. It has been the route of all the ex- 
peditions of war and commerce that fill the 
variegated history of this "Umd of glory and 
of blood misspilt," and during all these three 
hundred and fifty years or more it has de- 
served the designation given it in the poetic 
nomenclature of the Spaniard : '^ Jornada del 
Muerto" — The Journey of Death. 



62 WONDERLAND ; THE STORY OF 

We cross it now in palace cars, going llir- 
ther in an hour than the old-time caravans 
went in a da\-, ;ind through the windows we 
can see the old trail, with crosses rising here 
and there like mile posts along the way. 

In a lew hours we reach the valley again, 
and follow it down by Mesilla, where tigs 
and pomegranates grow% until the brakeman 
shouts : '' El Paso ! Change cars for Chihua- 
hua and all points in Mexico !" 

"'What of New Mexico ?'' asks every one 
who turns that wa}'. I would not have you 
believe it to be but a reminiscence of long- 
gone and barbaric splendor. It has a popu- 
lation of one hundred ;'.nd hft\- thousand peo- 
ple, a large proportion of whom are men of 
to-day — active, capable, up with the times. 
And this jiroportion is becoming larger with 
the arrival of ever\' train. 

The Territory ranks eighth in silver prod- 
uct, eleventh in gold, fifteenth in the number 
and value of sheep, arid eighteenth in cattle, 
among the states and territories of the Union. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 63 

The agricultural area is limited, owing to lack 
of large streams for the purposes of irrigation, 
but every acre under ditch 3'ields abundantly. 
All the small grains succeed admirably, fruits 
reach pertection, the grape is in its glory. 

You should go down the valley in the wan- 
ing summer, and see the carettas piled high 
with the luscious fruit coming to the presses, 
where the boys and girls tread out the red 
wine, keeping time with their hands to the 
songs that they sing. 

There are other matters of which I would 
like to speak. The grazing grounds, that are 
yet to feed the flocks and herds of the Union; 
the mineral springs, that are to make New 
Mexico the sanitarium of the continent; the 
climatic and scenic beauties, that are attract- 
ing tourists from Europe as well as America; 
and, above all, the mines, that once tempted 
priests and dazzled the eyes of kings, and that 
shall in these later times enrich the world. I 
would tell you of them; but if I detain you, it 
will be the shadow and not the substance you 



64 wonderland; the story of 

will get, and hence I desist, that you may go 
and verify this story. 

You may ask incredulously, '■' Wh^- have we 
never known this before? What has kept a 
knowledge of this country from us?" 

My answer is. its isolation. The country 
was locked up away from the immigrant; the 
the natives preferred to have it so ; and the 
outsider, for lack of authentic information, 
called it a desert. 

All this is changed. The doors have been 
opened wide. The night of inactivity and 
sloth is passing away, and the hilltops gleam 
with the dawn of a resurrection. For while 
the citizen scowls at the music ot the engine 
bell or the scream of its whistle the alien is 
coming and will not be delayed. The church 
may demur, and the im}-)erious Spaniard may 
scowl as he dreams of the past, but neither 
Padre nor Don can arrest it, for the Genius 
ot Progress is treading hill and valley, and 
the restless tide of human lite murmurs of its 
on-coming and irresistible power. And while 



ANCIENT AND MODERN NEW MEXICO. 65 

the remnants of a race that once boasted of 
empire may sit by their huts and con the le"-- 
ends of Quivira, where 

"A temple in ruin stands, 
Fashioned bj' long-!orgotton hands; 
Two or three coliunns and many a stone. 
Marble and granite with giass o'crgrown, 
Remnants of tilings that liave p iissed awaj% 
Fragments of stone reared by creatures of clay" — 

the contact of the old and the new will be 
soon forgotten in the magic transformation, 

•■ When the great Wonderland, 
With its turbulent sand. 

Shall burst into bloom at the toueh of a Ivind. 
And a desert, baptized. 
Prove an Eden disguised.'" 






lono^, 






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